Disrupting disruption with disruptive disruptions since 2010.
To make small, incremental improvements to something, which is a sophisticated way of saying "it's not done but we're shipping it anyway." The philosophy of iterate fast, break things has broken many things and iterated on surprisingly few.
A program that nurtures early-stage startups by providing office space, mentorship, and a false sense of security. It's called an incubator because, much like the medical device, it keeps fragile things alive that probably wouldn't survive in the real world.
The magical period where startup founders burn through investor cash while "validating their business model," ostensibly nurturing their fledgling company from idea to viable business. Like hatching eggs, except the eggs cost millions of dollars and most of them produce nothing. Incubators and accelerators love this word because it makes burning money sound scientific and inevitable.
When investors, customers, or acquirers proactively reach out to a startup rather than being solicited. It's the entrepreneurial equivalent of being asked to the dance instead of doing the asking.
A funding round where only existing investors participate, with no new outside investors joining. It's either a vote of confidence from believers or a sign that no one else wanted in.
Someone who gives you money in exchange for a piece of your company, future profits, or the thrill of watching their capital evaporate. They're either your best friend or worst nightmare, depending on whether your quarterly numbers are trending upward. In startup land, they're the people whose calls you always take.
The corporate buzzword for 'doing something new' that appears in every mission statement and keynote presentation. To innovate is to revolutionize or introduce novelty, though in practice it often means adding an app to something that worked fine without one. Companies that claim to innovate daily are usually just iterating on someone else's idea with a slightly different shade of blue.
The adjective slapped on every product, service, and startup pitch deck to signal 'we're doing something allegedly new.' Something innovative is supposed to be groundbreaking and forward-thinking, though these days it often means 'we added AI to it.' If your company isn't innovative, you're basically admitting you're stuck in 2005 with a flip phone.
Contractual provisions granting investors access to a startup's financial statements, board minutes, and other operational data. Essentially, the legal right to know how badly founders are spending their money.
The driving force or stimulus that gets something moving, whether it's a business initiative, social movement, or your motivation to finally start that side project. In startup land, it's whatever convinces founders they can disrupt an industry, usually a personal pain point or too much coffee. Think of it as the corporate equivalent of "what sparked this terrible/brilliant idea?"
An internal document where VCs justify their investment thesis to partners, typically written with supreme confidence that will be mocked at the next downturn. The receipts for future 'I told you so' moments.
In startup-land, it's the art of nursing a half-baked business idea in a controlled environment with free coffee and ping-pong tables until it either hatches into a unicorn or expires quietly. Literally borrowed from the egg-warming business, because apparently founders need the same level of coddling as baby chickens. This metaphorical brooding period involves providing ideal conditions (mentorship, funding, ramen) while the startup grows its feathers.
A startup's dream scenario where it becomes a public company and founders finally get to sell their stock—statistically less likely than winning the lottery.
The introduction of something new—a fresh idea, process, or product that differs from the status quo. The corporate world's favorite word to slap on anything that isn't from 1987.